


our doubting bones

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, party boy!liam, socially awkward!zayn, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zayn's not crazy, and liam's not stupid despite the labels that accompany their actions. (or simply, the one where zayn is a bit socially awkward; liam is thought to be dumb, yet they both discover that maybe there's more to each other than meets the eye).</p>
            </blockquote>





	our doubting bones

**Author's Note:**

> i think i could've done a whole lot better with this. but welcome to my world full of anxieties! some of zayn's are taken straight out of my life. let's hope you don't think them silly.

The first day back to college should bring solace to Zayn because it’s his comfort zone, something he uses to bring himself relief when his mind overwhelms itself with difficult thoughts that seek to scare him. However, he’s nervous because his anxieties tend to get the better of him, going to class alone and figuring out his schedule and just being around _people_ makes his hands shake and heart race.

Zayn takes a deep breath and pushes his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. He’s here early. Decided it was best to get to class before most so that he could have free reign of the room and chose his seat. Most of the time, classes end up having too many students, with some having to take a seat on the floor or squeeze their way past other chairs just to find an empty one to sit at, and Zayn’s a pit paranoid, doesn’t want to become one of those people that everyone stares at for being late.

The room is nearly full, and all Zayn has with him is a notebook. He doodles in it, keeps his head down until he’s sure class is about to start and doesn’t pay much attention to anyone in his surroundings. People are talking, and he’s very aware that there are two people on the each side of him, but Zayn’s not too keen on making friends - more so having a hard time with it than the choice of not wanting any - and knows that it’s best if he just keeps his mouth shut.

Although when class begins and the professor is in front of the room, going over the syllabus, Zayn’s at ease, feeling fine and nodding his head every so often because he knows this class will be a breeze for him. English is something he’s proud of, glad he’s able to understand the simple rules because they don’t change. They stick so it’s a universal code, and Zayn likes the way that works.

“-group projects.”

And then his mood further plummets because he’d zoned out just for a moment, and no. _No_ , that can’t be happening.

“You’ll be assigned a partner; you’ll both read the book listed and write a seven page essay.”

Zayn tunes it out again in favor of trying to calm his racing heart.

x.x.x.x

There are two people Zayn is familiar with: Harry and Niall. They’re two lads he’d gotten to know in one of his science courses when they’d been paired together for a lab. Zayn had taken over given Niall’s dumbfounded expression and Zayn’s worry that he’d end up blowing them all up when mixing liquids together. His reaction, he now knows, might’ve been a little extreme, but Zayn’s thankful for it regardless because all three had made a good letter grade given Zayn’s tendency to be a perfectionist.

“He just _talks_ ,” Harry says, exasperated. “Like, he won’t fucking shut up.”

Niall giggles, and Zayn looks up from his book. He’d gone to the bookstore directly after classes, bought everything he needed just to get it out of the way.

“You’re not so quiet yourself, Harry,” Zayn reasons.

Harry kicks at his thigh, unsettling Zayn enough for him to lash out and smack his ankle. “Quit kicking.”

“Stop being a prick.”

His pink tongue pokes out from behind his lips in a childish effort to defend himself. “It’s only the first week of school, yeah? Maybe he was just being friendly.”

That answer is greeted by a snort from Harry, but he drops his complaints. “What about you then? It’s obvious Niall’s giddy because what’s-her-face has a class with him, but you haven’t spoken a word.” Which is true because Niall’s too busy staring at the tv with a bottle of beer in his hand, not really paying attention to his friend’s bickering.

“What’s there to say?”

Harry opts to roll his eyes. “You’re so boring sometimes. I swear.”

Zayn’s not hurt by the statement. In fact, he _knows_ he’s boring, and while sometimes he feels like he should make an effort to be more fun, it’s not in his nature. It’s not that he’s lazy either; he just prefers the comfort of home (well, if this shitty, tiny house the three of them split the rent on can be considered home) and a quiet night. “M’sorry.”

Harry makes to kick him again, but Zayn catches his foot before he can. It causes him to lose his place in his book, so he just tosses it on the floor knowing that there’s no point in trying to get a head start on his assignments. “Don’t do that, Zayn. Don’t make me feel bad.”

“Didn’t mean ‘ta.”

The boy who’s got a mass of curly hair and bright green eyes finally sits up from his position on the couch to rest his chin on Zayn’s shoulder, using his arms to wrap around the lanky frame of his friend, pulling Zayn tighter into his embrace. “Worry about you, ya know.”

Zayn doesn’t hide his frown. “Why’s that?”

“‘Cause you’re a recluse,” Niall decides to chime in, and Zayn just wants to throw a pillow at him.

“Am not. Do you even know what that means?”

Niall then flips him off but doesn’t bother to add further commentary.

“S’just, we’ve been here for nearly two years now, Zayn,” Harry continues, “I wanna make sure you’re not gonna look back on your college years and regret it.”

He tries to look earnest, puts a smile on his face and all. “I promise, Harry. I’m just focused on good grades right now.”

Harry only nods, not really convinced until Zayn finally nudges him. “Why don’t we do something in a couple of weeks then? Let’s get settled with school and our classes, and we’ll figure out something. Sound good?”

Zayn knows Niall likes his idea given that he gives Zayn a thumbs up from the chair he’s resting in. Harry, on the other hand, looks at Zayn wearily until he mutters _promise_ under his breath. Only then does Harry relent, letting Zayn go and shaking his head with a smile. “Alright then, just you wait.”

x.x.x.x

Three weeks is all it takes for Zayn to finally feel the anxiety seep out of his system. He’s staked his claim on certain chairs within his classrooms, and it’s a familiar routine already. Wake up before class, get there on time, wait for the previous class to leave so he can dart inside and take his seat so he can take notes.

Only, today is different when the professor decides it’s time to partner up so they can go ahead and get started on their reports, figuring out meeting times and who’s going to be writing what. And all Zayn really takes in is the fact that his name is paired up with another boy named _Liam Payne_. It’s got a nice ring to it, and when they’re called out, supposed to sit together in class, Zayn feels his world turn upside down when he spots the other fellow standing up from the other side of the room.

Liam, who looks nothing like Zayn expected, with his baseball cap on backwards, thin cotton t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts hung low on his waist, finds a seat next to him (given that someone next to Zayn, who he hadn’t bothered getting to know, was called before him, leaving the chair open for someone else to take).

“Hello.”

It’s simple, but it makes Zayn anxious because Liam doesn’t actually look like a Liam. Which, doesn’t even makes sense in his mind but it does, kind of.

“Zayn,” he says quickly, but then he blinks and cards a hand through his hair out of nervousness. “I mean hi,” he corrects. “I’m Zayn.”

“Liam,” he’s greeted with. And that’s it. That’s all for now because their professor wants their attention and class begins, and when it’s dismissed, Liam is gone, leaving Zayn feeling stupid and worried and nervous because _fuck_. This isn’t going to turn out well.

x.x.x.x

“Maybe I should drop the class,” Zayn says one evening.

It’s been about a week and a half since they were partnered up in his English class, but both he and Liam haven’t made any further contact than a few smiles here and there whenever they’ve caught each other’s eye.

“Don’t be daft,” Niall says. He gives Zayn a crazed look that has him rethinking the idea. “That’ll put you behind, and it’s just a paper. You’re good at that stuff,” he reasons. “Besides, if your buddy doesn’t do the work, alls you have to do is talk to the professor.”

It’s reasonable and rational, and sometimes Zayn wonders why things like this put him off so much. It’s not fair that he loses his fucking mind when it comes to things he’s not comfortable with. He’s so used to being poised and smart, but the moment he opens his mouth around strangers, god, he’s such a bumbling _idiot_ , and it’s dumb. It’s really fucking stupid because he shouldn’t be like this around people. They aren’t going to hurt him, but Zayn also knows that people, in general, have internal thoughts full of judgments.

And it’s the _what if what if what if_ that runs through his mind. Zayn doesn’t want to be seen as anything other than Zayn. Doesn’t wanna be the nerd or four eyes or paki or _or_ -

He sighs.

“Maybe Liam isn’t so bad?” he says with an ounce of hope.

Niall shrugs because there’s not much to comment on, and even though Zayn knows he can’t change himself, he wonders why he couldn’t have been like Niall, so carefree and fun and _outgoing_. Not afraid of the world and what people say, has a smile that’s bright and people instantly love him.

Zayn closes his eyes and doesn’t think about it anymore, can’t bring himself to think about all the ways he’s so different and far from normal.

x.x.x.x

The next time Zayn’s in class, Liam’s late. He sneaks in and takes his seat beside Zayn. And if he’s honest, he looks like shit. There are bags under his eyes, and he looks pale.

“Are you okay?” Zayn whispers.

Liam’s laying down on the table now. They’ve been sitting towards the back of the classroom so it’s not like their professor is going to notice too much if one or both of them isn’t paying attention.

“Yeah,” Liam answers. His throat sounds a bit thick though, and Zayn’s not convinced.

“You’re not sick, are you?”

And Liam chuckles, gives him a bewildered expression. “Nah, mad party last night. Everyone was there.”

Zayn briefly purses his lips and comes to the quick conclusion that Liam’s looking at him like he is because apparently he thinks Zayn had gone, or at least had known about said party. “Oh.”

He leaves it at that and lets Liam doze off next to him for the rest of class. He ends up having to nudge him when class is over though, not wanting Liam to look like a dumbass who fell asleep.

Liam doesn’t thank him after he does either, just asks for Zayn’s notes he can copy at a later time before they’re parting ways.

x.x.x.x

The next few weeks come and go, and while Zayn’s already decided to get started on his English paper, he hasn’t really properly talked to Liam. However what he has found out is the fact that Liam tends to have a very different schedule than Zayn. There’s at least one or two out of the three days they’re in class where Liam comes in tired, moody or overall hungover from nights out, and Zayn thinks it’s a stupid move on his part.

At the very least, Liam could wait until the weekend to actually go get drunk and party with a lot of people, but no, he does it on school night’s which completely confuses Zayn. Sure, Niall and Harry go to respective parties too, but they’re a lot wiser with it, able to have enough beer and water the rest of the night so they’re not so miserable in their classes the following day.

So, Zayn, being the complete, socially awkward asshole, decides to berate Liam about it one day when they’re in class. There is no lecture, this time supposed to be used towards their paper, and maybe it’s because Zayn’s just had a bad morning (everyone does occasionally), but he turns to Liam and frowns. “Maybe I should find a new partner,” he starts. It’s none of his business what Liam does, but when it’s potentially affecting his grade, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make an A.

Liam looks up from his phone, side eyeing Zayn. “What?”

“Have you done _anything_ for this class? Read the assignments, take any notes, or, I dunno, worked on our paper?”

Liam’s brow furrows as he sets aside his phone long enough to look at Zayn. “Not really.”

The frown on Zayn’s face steadily grows deeper.

“Why?”

“Right,” Zayn drawls. “I see how it is. You expect me to do all the work.”

“Not exactly,” Liam explains. He shrugs, licks his lips and manages to look adorable, but damn it, Zayn is angry. “Figured I’d leave you alone about it.”

Which makes no goddamn sense because they’re _partners_. “Why, and how in the world did you come to that conclusion?”

When Liam bites at his lower lip, Zayn knows that whatever he wants to say, and whatever he might say next is not going to be to Zayn’s liking. So he braces himself for the inevitable insult that might follow, hadn’t even kept in mind that maybe Liam kept his distance because he thought himself above Zayn. “You’re a bit arrogant, if I’m honest.”

That’s new.

“ _Wh-_ ” But Zayn pauses and tries to wrap his mind around that word, because arrogant? Zayn is a lot of things, but _that_? “How’d you figure that?”

“Look, I don’t mean any harm. You _asked_.”

He can’t help but feel like he’s been shot in the heart, shoulders slumping and a weight settling into his stomach. “Just,” he waves a hand, gathering up his things, “Nevermind. I’ll do it. Don’t worry.”

And Zayn leaves without looking back.

x.x.x.x

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, it’s Saturday, and you’ve been cooped up in your room for too long.”

“Harry-” Zayn tries to protest.

But he hushes Zayn because, “You promised, remember? You said, and we’re going out.”

And yeah, maybe Zayn did, but he really doesn’t want to leave his room in favor of a crowd of people all drunk and crazy, where the music is too loud for his liking.

But it happens regardless of what Zayn really wants, and all three of them end up in a mansion of a house, way too big and way too pricey, and Zayn knows that precious valuables are going to end up broken.

Niall’s the first to leave their group, finds a couple of friends he knows and buggers off. Harry manages to stay by Zayn’s side as they push their way through people, his body thrumming with energy the deeper they walk into the house. Eventually they find the kitchen, Harry immediately finding cans of beer for both him and Zayn, and he sips while Harry chugs.

And then Harry takes off, and Zayn is left alone to wander around. He knows he’ll reprimand his friends for leaving him behind, but he’s content just standing here all by his lonesome. That is, until things get interesting; the music changes and the place seems too full. At this point, Zayn would love to leave, but Harry and Niall are nowhere to be found, and the crowd is pushing closer together regardless of Zayn trying to get through.

But mostly, he just feels trapped and uneven, in an unfamiliar place with faces he doesn’t recognize. The first signs start showing themselves regardless of Zayn trying to pretend that he’s fine. His stomach clenches, heartbeat skipping every once in awhile.

Soon it becomes too much, and Zayn just looks for an exit because maybe the cool night air will help him out, help him think, help him breathe. He’s a bit sweaty at this point, having dropped his beer god knows how long ago, feels instant regret at the possible stain it might leave behind, but things are too close and too much.

And Zayn definitely needs to leave.

The thing is, he’s small. Like, really small, and it’s hard pushing through people because they’re drunk and won’t budge. He probably looks like a dazed animal, eyes darting about, not enough oxygen getting into his lungs.

And of course as luck would have it, there are arms encircling him and people dancing so close to him.

He can’t breathe.

Zayn tries to pull away, just needs to focus on himself and probably yell at his friends for convincing him that this was a good way to hang out.

And then there’s a hand intertwining with his, and Zayn almost pulls away from it, but it doesn’t let go, just drags him through the bodies of people until they’re out of the house and in the front lawn where Zayn finally gets a chance to fill his lungs with much needed air. It also finally gives him the opportunity to work through the slight amount of panic that had managed to set in.

“Didn’t think I’d see you at something like this.”

The voice is too familiar, and when Zayn looks over at Liam, he finds that they’re hands are still grasped in one another’s. He’s not so quick to pull away, actually liking the weight of it as he focuses on getting control of his entire body. “Shouldn’t have come.”

“Are you okay? You look a little lost; maybe a bit drunk.”

“‘m not drunk,” Zayn says hastily, defending himself.

Liam just nods, reaching for Zayn’s back in order to comfort him but Zayn sidesteps him. “Don’t touch me.” It sounds harsh, and the look in Liam’s eyes reads nothing but hurt. “S-sorry,” Zayn corrects. “Can’t breathe.”

“Claustrophobic?” As if that’s the only reason Zayn could possibly be hyperventilating at a party.

“Something like that,” Zayn says. Liam’s still a stranger to him, and it’s not like he’d even possibly understand what Zayn goes through. He’s just like Niall and Harry, who do what they want without hesitation, who have no problems talking and being sociable, who thrive at parties and use them to survive school. “I’m gonna head home.”

He leaves it at that, pulls away from Liam and decides to head down the street. The house isn’t a far walk from here. He’d rather not do it this late at night, but he’ll be fine on his own.

“Let me walk you home.”

Zayn pauses but doesn’t protest. He leads the way though, can feel Liam’s presence by his side the entire walk. By the time he gets home, Zayn’s exhausted, and he feels terrible that Liam’s going to have to find his way back, but he’s there with a soft smile on his face, wishing Zayn a goodnight.

x.x.x.x

Zayn doesn’t see Liam in class until the following week, and when Zayn eyes him warily, Liam manages to look sheepish, slowly sliding into his chair, apologizing and slipping a piece of paper over to Zayn.

“I tried,” Liam says, and that’s all he gets to because their professor is clearing her throat and proceeding on with class.

Zayn studies the paper, finds that it’s part of the essay with Liam’s thoughts on pieces of the book they were supposed to read. It’s not much work, but it’s a start, and it’s something Zayn can work with. He notices the grammar mistakes, and the way that some sentences need to be reworded, and it hadn’t even crossed Zayn’s mind that Liam probably didn’t pay too much attention in class because English might just be a little too difficult for him.

Which makes him feel like utter shit.

So when class is over with, and Liam’s walking away, Zayn takes the plunge and goes after him, calling his name and hoping that maybe he could be of some help. “You should come by,” he starts, shrugging his shoulders and keeping his eyes lowered. “Or we could meet somewhere, if that’s more comfortable, you know, to work on this.” Zayn holds up Liam’s paper so he knows what he’s talking about.

When he’s just met with silence, Zayn’s about to shake his head and tell him to forget about it, but then Liam speaks up with a simple, “Okay.”

Zayn looks up with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

“Just let me know when,” Liam continues, and he smiles brightly just before he stalks off, leaving Zayn there to pick up the pieces of his frazzled mind.

x.x.x.x

“Relax, Zayn,” Harry insists.

Niall snickers but doesn’t comment.

“This place is a _mess_ , and he’s going to be here any second.” His friends can laugh at him all they want, but making an impression is important. Liam already thinks he’s arrogant, and god knows what else, and coming into a pigsty is the last thing anyone wants to see.

“You’re just doing homework-”

“That’s worth a grade,” Zayn interrupts. “This is important.”

Harry bites his lips before opening his mouth again. “Are you sure it’s that important? Because to me it looks like it’s more than that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zayn pauses, pushing Harry’s legs off the coffee table.

“I dunno,” he starts. “You tell me.”

Zayn has half a mind to smack him, but there’s a knock on the door that startles them all. “Shit.”

“Breathe.”

Zayn nods at Harry’s instructions. His friends are supposed to go out tonight, or at least leave him alone so that he’s able to get his school work done. He hopes that’s the case, but knowing how nosy they like to be, he wouldn’t put it past them sticking around in order to find out all they can about Liam and do a proper job of trying to embarrass him.

“You came!” Zayn says. He realizes that’s probably not the right choice of words because it might come across as if he’d doubted Liam (and he’s not sorry to say he might have possibly done so), but Liam’s not offended because he smiles wide.

“Of course.”

There are brief introductions all around, with Harry’s eyes as wide as saucers, giving Zayn the thumbs up from behind Liam’s back. He tries to discreetly tell Harry to fuck off because he knows what Harry’s implying, but Zayn hasn’t thought about dating anyone in awhile, and just the idea of him and Liam together, well, that kind of makes his brain short-circuit.

“I’ve got to warn you, I’m not very good at this,” Liam says as he takes a seat on the couch. He’s got his own book. “I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to help out.”

Zayn settles himself on the floor, directly in front of the coffee table where he’s got his laptop perched. “You read the book?”

“Yeah, if you count _trying_.”

Liam chuckles softly, but Zayn picks up on the nervousness. So he turns around and glances up at Liam through his glasses. “Then you have an opinion on it regardless of what you think, and that’s exactly what we need.”

“About that,” Liam sighs. He sets his book down on the coffee table to learn forward, elbows propped up on his knees. “Didn’t say I actually understood it.”

Zayn’s mouth forms into an _o_ shape as if he’s finally clicking together what Liam means. “Well, as long as you have some input, then we’ll be fine.” He nudges Liam’s knee in reassurance.

And it goes like that for the next hour or two, with Zayn explaining the direction he’d like to write the paper in, to asking for Liam’s opinion. Turns out, despite what Liam had said about not understanding the piece of literature, a lot of the points of the story absorbed well enough. Zayn takes it upon himself to ask for Liam’s opinion and writing it into an elegant statement rather than forcing Liam to write himself. And it’s not that Zayn thinks he can’t do it - Liam’s absolutely smart, especially as he opens up about his own personal viewpoints. It leaves Zayn smiling and nodding and disagreeing, but understanding.

For the first time in a long time, Zayn relaxes, and he lets loose. There’s a smile on his face, and he can’t help but joke around any time Liam does the same. And they stay like this, long after Harry and Niall return, and about an hour or so after midnight, when the time has passed, and Liam should’ve been back in his dorm room already.

“Can I tell you something?” The room is illuminated by Zayn’s computer and a lamp sitting in the cornering of the room, so it’s quite dark, but the outline of the paper is pretty much done, and Zayn’s already got a few paragraphs going. He figures he can finish it on his own now, but Liam’s insisted them meeting again just in case Zayn wants anything else from him. He’d expressed his opinion on the idea of leaving Zayn to do all the work - as what Zayn had accused him of in class - by stating that that was the last thing he wanted.

Zayn relents from typing, dropping his hands into his lap. Liam’s moved onto the floor as well, taking up the space next to Zayn, their legs brushing up against one another as either one of them shifts from sitting still for so long. “Don’t see why not.”

“You’re not as bad as I thought you were.”

Zayn can’t help but wring his hands nervously in his lap at the admission. “That’s good.”

“‘m sorry for what I said before. You’re not arrogant, I mean.”

“It’s okay, Liam,” he says, turning his head and crooking up the corner of his mouth. “I’m used to people not thinking highly of me.”

Liam makes a noise of protest. “Are you scared of me?”

Zayn takes a minute to process that question before rapidly shaking his head. “No! Absolutely not. Why do you think that?”

And it’s Liam’s turn to duck his head, Zayn noticing the way the tips of his ears turn a bit pink. “S’just, you don’t really talk much, is all. Sometimes I don’t know what you’re thinking cuz you keep to yourself.”

This isn’t anything new that Zayn is hearing. It’s quite common, and something Harry had even expressed to him once they’d gotten to know one another. Zayn has a bad habit of not looking completely open, and he understands perfectly why Liam must’ve thought he was arrogant and probably a dick too. He doesn’t mean to be so closed off, but it’s just the way he is, and people tend to not understand and ignore him because they think he’s weird, or simply mean.

“It’s a habit I’m trying to break,” Zayn admits. It’s not a lie either, but more often than not, he stays silent and keeps to himself because it’s easier than being open and looking like a completely fool.

“That’s not what I mean. You shouldn’t change, Zayn.” Liam looks at him with certainty. “Just… I don’t know. I’m sure people like you a lot more than you think they do.”

Zayn sucks in a breathe, and Liam apologizes quickly because that might’ve been out of line, but Zayn just reaches for Liam’s hand to give it a squeeze. “It’s okay. I’ve heard it before, and yet no matter how many times people tell me that, I can’t seem to get it through my head that maybe you and everyone else are right.”

They settle into a comfortable silence after that, Zayn returning to their paper, and Liam deciding to leave after another thirty minutes because he can feel the lack of sleep taking over. Zayn sees Liam to the door, wishing him a goodnight like Liam had done a few weeks ago, which only has Liam pause to press his lips against Zayn’s cheek and wishing him the same.

x.x.x.x

Class, for the most part, is normal. Routine is routine, and Zayn feels safe with Liam by his side. Zayn doesn’t miss, at least he tries not to, and when there are days Liam doesn’t show up, Zayn feels a bit lost.

However, they’re a lot more talkative. Zayn smiling brightly the instant Liam enters the room (because somehow Zayn’s always there before him), with Liam taking his seat, reaching for Zayn’s hand under the desk to give a comforting squeeze and reassurance that Zayn may or may not need.

They hang out outside of class too, Liam becoming familiar with both Niall and Harry (who learn that the bloke Harry had been upset over towards the beginning of semester is actually named Louis, who is close friends with Liam). Harry never ceases to tease Zayn, but both he and Liam turn into a _thing_ anyway. It’s slow going, and Liam still goes out at night, but it’s different because Liam’s a heavy presence in Zayn’s life, comforting in a way he didn’t know he wanted or needed.

Liam’s a fixture - possibly permanent, Zayn’s not sure - but he brings Zayn out of his shell little by little. Especially tonight, when Liam’s managed to drag him out to a party filled with more people and alcohol. It’s not Zayn’s scene, but Liam had pouted, told him his friends were invited too if that made him feel any better.

It had, somewhat. But as he’s here now, he feels the tension seep into his bones until Liam’s behind him, mouth against his ear and whispering, “Dance with me.”

Zayn has half a mind to say no, and Liam reads the silence as such, so he includes, “It’ll be different. You’re not alone, Zayn. Just enjoy it, yeah?”

It sounds persuasive, like he’s trying to force Zayn. But that’s not how Zayn reads it. Not when Liam’s hands are on his waist, turning Zayn around in his grasps. He doesn’t lead them over to the crowd of people in the living room, the both of them standing on the outskirts of it all, and Liam moves, slowly at first, tapping the rhythm and the beat onto Zayn’s hip. He stays close, lets Zayn wrap his arms around Liam until he falls into the music, pressed close against Liam.

And for the first time Zayn understands, just _feels_ what it’s like to be included without the added pressure of his anxiety ruining the experience. Liam’s burning a large hole into his heart and filling it right back up with acceptance.

Zayn wonders if this is what it feels like to be fully free.


End file.
